


Blushing Primroses

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Wedding Night, virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6456454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place immediately after the end of To Pick a Primrose! The happy couples wedding night</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blushing Primroses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldWerewolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldWerewolf/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Goldwerewolf (sorry it's late!! Love you to pieces and thank you so much for helping me write To Pick a Primrose!)

Bog was bright red, his cheeks felt on fire. This whole ceremony was outdated as far as he was concerned, but no one seemed to care about his concerns. It wasn't like he was king or anything! But here he was in his nightshirt waiting. 

He was sure the entire kingdom could see the red glow of his skin. He probably lit up the castle in a nice rosy red glow so the whole kingdom could point, oh there, that direction where the red is coming from? Yes, the king is going to lose his virginity tonight. Bog covered his face with an inward groan. He was waiting for Marianne to change and then the embarrassing walk to the bedchamber led by his mother. Tradition demanded that they be escorted to the royal bedchamber for the major players of the court to witness. It was humiliating, but despite the fact it was tradition it also allowed the kingdom to know that they had consummated the marriage, to put any nay-sayers to rest when Marianne had their first child. The thought of Marianne carrying his child made Bog blush with happiness. Marianne, the mother of his child... 

* 

He had gone back to pacing the small chamber where he waited, holding his hands tightly behind his back, when finally after what seemed an eternity, there was a soft knock at the heavy wood door. His mother stuck her head in with a grin. “Ready?” 

He looked at his mother with a bit of a sulk. “No.” 

She laughed “Come on, dear. This won't take long and then I will shoo everyone away so you two can be alone.” 

With as much dignity as the king in a nightshirt could muster, Bog walked out of the royal dressing rooms. There was a group waiting: advisers, servants, some other minor nobles, but his attention was immediately taken by the vision of his wife at the other end of the hall. He could see Marianne in a nightdress of pure white that hung softly over her shoulders and flowed down her slim figure, pooling in layers at her feet. She looked like a fairy, her long dark hair, soft and flowing partly down around her shoulders in thick satin curls. The sides of her hair were pulled back and held in place with a white ribbon. She was standing with her sister and father on either side of her, her hands folded in front of her as she stood waiting.

Her eyes moved to meet his; they looked at each other and he could feel himself becoming lost in her eyes, those brown, warm depths. He felt his breath being taken away by the sight of his wife. His wife, the words settled in his heart, wrapping him in warmth, his wife, Marianne Summerfield was his wife, his soon-to-be lover, his wife. Bog startled slightly when his mother touched his arm, then motioned for the group to follow. She took Bog's hand on one side and reached for Marianne's on the other. Griselda then led them down the hall toward the royal bedchamber. 

As they moved closer to the bedchamber, Marianne saw that the huge oaken, double doors that led into their marriage bedchamber had thick gold handles and were carved with primroses and butterflies. She smiled, appreciating the beauty of the doors, her eyes straying over to Bog. He glanced sideways at her blushing. 

His mother let go of their hands and pushed opened the doors, standing aside to let the couple enter. The room was different than the one Bog had before he was married. This large chamber was suited for a couple, whereas his other bedroom was reserved for one person. This room had been locked since his father died, but when Bog proposed to Marianne, his mother had it gutted and redecorated for her son and daughter-in-law. 

They stepped inside, both of them gasping. Griselda had directed that the room be decorated in varying shapes of deep purples and blues. The wallpaper was a garden of lush primroses, butterflies and dragonflies, the bed a large queen-size with canopy of heavy woo. The curtains and bed spread were in the dark blues that Bog favored. All the furniture matched with the bed radiating luxury, but more importantly, comfort. There was a vanity for Marianne, chairs, a small dining table and a full-length mirror. Griselda grinned. “My present to you both.” 

She motioned with her head to the large canopy bed, then Griselda stepped forward pulling back the blankets of the bed before stepping back to the doors with a glance at her son and daughter-in-law. Bog glanced sideways at Marianne, taking her hand, his cheeks bright red. She gave him a small smile, her fingers wrapping tightly around his as they stepped over to the bed, separating only long enough for her to walk around to the other side. Then, for everyone to see, they both climbed into the bed. Griselda smiled at them before turning to start pushing everyone back out, pulling the doors shut. “Alright everyone, the marriage is consummated—down to the banquet hall!” 

Dawn jumped up waving. “Have fun!!” Their father suddenly looked horrified, grabbing his youngest daughter and steering her away. 

They could hear the cheers from behind the heavy doors becoming quieter as the group receded down the halls and to the stairwells. 

The two of them laid there listening to the sounds of retreating steps until it was quiet. The only sounds in the room were the flickering candles and their nervous breathing. Bog stared at his hands resting in his lap. Marianne studied his profile, smiling softly. “Husband?” 

He jerked in surprise, his cheeks becoming flushed, though he did smile. “Wife?” 

They both giggled nervously. They lay quietly again before Bog reached over, gently taking her hand that held the wedding ring he had given to her. He brushed his fingertips over the ring and pulled her hand to his mouth kissing her fingers as he whispered. “My heart.” 

Marianne blushed, smiling so much she knew her face would hurt tomorrow, but she was so happy. She twisted around to face him as Bog moved his lips to her palm, kissing softly up to her wrist. 

He could feel her pulse as his lips pressed against the soft skin. He looked up at her then, his blue eyes full of love and desire. 

He shifted his night shirt and the blanket in such a way to try to hide his attraction when he realized it had become very obvious, his face growing deeply red, embarrassed at his body's uncontrolled response. Marianne reached out with her free hand to stroke his neck, shifting across the small space to be closer to him. Marianne leaned close to brush her lips against his. A soft groan of desire escaped his lips at the feel of her mouth against his. His hands ran up her arms over the fabric of her nightdress to her shoulders where his fingers felt her bare skin. Marianne reached for him, her hands brushed along his thighs when she leaned in to deepen the kiss. Bog's fingertips stroked her shoulders, a gentle tracing along her collarbone that sent goosebumps over her skin. He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her closer. His long fingers tightened, balling up the fabric of her gown as she pressed in close, his arousal bumped against her causing him to jerk with a gasp, pulling away. 

“Bog.” She reached for him. His expression conveyed his embarrassment. “Kiss me.” She made it a whispered command. She reached up gingerly to where, between her breasts was a ribbon, her eyes on his. Marianne gently pulled at the ribbon untying it slowly, allowing her gown to slowly fall open. Bog stared at her in wonderment, the skin of her collar, the tops of her breasts, their soft gentle slopes. Bog swallowed. Marianne giggled softly, pleased at his reaction. He pulled her closer, overcoming some of his initial hesitation. His lips moved to her collar, brushing along the satin softness of her skin, then up her neck stroking slowly along her flesh. He was amazed at how soft her skin was. “Marianne...” 

They fell back against the pillows, Bog gathering her close, kissing her again, his tongue exploring the deeper areas of her mouth. She sucked softly on his tongue, his lips heating her skin and evoking hot spots on other parts of her body. She wanted him to touch her, more of her, to feel his rough fingers on her skin. She moved her hands down his chest to pull at the ties of his nightshirt, her fingers finding the hollow of his throat. She surprised him when she broke off the kiss to attack his neck, her lips, tongue and teeth ravenous the tender skin. Bog groaned and rolled onto his back, taking his new wife with him. Marianne set her attentions to his throat, her explorations taking her to his collar tugging at his nightshirt to get to his chest. Bog chuckled for a moment, feeling at the mercy of his wife. 

She felt bold, tugging until the shirt's laces were completely undone exposing a line down to his breastbone. She had moved by this point to straddle him. She sat back for a moment, looking down at her husband lying beneath her, his night shirt open and with his chest exposed. He was so handsome that she was aroused just looking at him. 

Bog blushed. “I love you, wife.” 

She smoothed her fingertips over the hair of his chest tugging his shirt open more. “I love you, my husband.” 

Bog moved his hands up her legs pushing away the layers of her nightdress to feel her skin. Touching her bare flesh was like being burned, but in a way that he needed more. His hands glided up to her hips. Her bare hips under his hands made his heart beat harder, faster. 

Spurring him again, Marianne's mouth danced along the flesh of his chest. She let her lust control her, licking, biting, tasting him—she simply could not get enough. She could feel his hard heat between her legs even through the layers of fabric between them, the bunched fabric of his nightshirt and her nightdress. He groaned at the feel of her mouth on his chest, his hands sliding around to grip her rear, her skin so soft, so smooth, so warm. Her lips moved down to his breastbone and then she dragged her tongue back up to the hollow of his neck when suddenly Bog wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back. 

She yelped in a surprised giggle as she was flopped onto the pillows with her new husband over her. He breathed heavily as he stared down at her with those incredible blue eyes that she had always found enticing, deep, and soulful. Bog leaned on one hand while with his other hand he slowly reached down to tug at the open sections of her nightdress. Her heart hammered with anticipation. 

She watched him as he unlaced the rest of her gown and softly laid her dress open, folding back the cloth exposing just the slope of her breasts. He swallowed, staring before he gingerly ran his fingertips down between her breasts. Marianne moaned, arching her chest under his touch, his fingertips slightly rough, the feeling erotic, sensual. Bog traced the curve of her breasts and his eyes filled with wonderment. He carefully pulled away the linen of her nightdress exposing one breast fully. He sucked in his breath with a hiss seeing her breast, soft and pale, the nipple hard and pink against the white of her nightdress, for a moment he didn't know what to do but stare. 

“Bog?” Marianne whispered when he didn't move. He swallowed, his eyes moving back to her face. “May I...?” He glanced from her eyes to her exposed breast. Liquid heat raced to her breasts and groin which made her whole body arch. 

“Yes, Bog.” 

He reached down tenderly, stroking his fingers over her nipple. He marveled at the way she felt, the soft moan that escaped her lips when he touched her. He laid his hand over her breast, squeezing softly. She closed her eyes, arching her neck, her breasts rising up and the fabric shifted over her other breast. Her mouth was open slightly, her lips pink and plump as her breath quickened. His heart beat so hard that it was almost painful as he leaned down, removing his hand to press his lips to her breast. She gasped at the feel of his slightly damp lips, warm against her sensitive skin. The feel of his lips over her skin made her feel lustful, excited, and oh so needy. 

Her back arched with a groan needing more. He carefully gave her a chance to pull away or tell him to stop, but then he brushed his lips along her sensitive nipple, his tongue coming out to gingerly lick. Marianne quivered, her hands reaching up to stroke through his thick hair. At her encouragement, he licked more, tracing the whole nipple with his tongue. He adjusted his position to lay alongside her so that his other hand could squeeze the opposite breast. 

She could feel the building of sensation all through her body, but the more he focused on her breasts the more her groin ached with need and her body quivered and quaked at his attentions. His long thumb and fingers, calloused from gardening and sword work, stroked her nipple, squeezing gently while his tongue tantalized and his lips sucked and caressed the other. She could feel his erection through their clothing, against her leg, an erotic pleasure she wanted to explore more. Marianne watched him playing with her breasts, her elegant fingers stroking his hair back. 

Bog moved over her, wanting to explore her other breast, starting the same attentions with his tongue, lips brushing to feel the texture of her nipple against them. At that moment, the heat building in her groin made her feel swollen and hot. Then suddenly pleasure exploded, radiating over from her body. Throwing her head back against the pillows, Marianne cried out, her hips jerking, her mouth falling open slightly, her fingers convulsing against his scalp. At the sound she made, Bog nearly achieved orgasm right then, though he almost leapt back from her in horror at himself, but he managed to control himself sucking on her nipple, teasing the other as Marianne rode out her climax. 

Marianne dropped back against the pillows and breathlessly moaned, “Maybe we should remove our night clothes?” 

He swallowed nervously again and nodded. “Aye, aye.” 

He hurried, dropped his legs over the side to stand beside the bed. He moved his arms over and pulled his nightshirt off over his head. Marianne's breath hitched as she watched him. Bog's back was to her, giving her a full view of his rear and the lean toned muscles of his back as he pulled the garment off. He tossed it aside and then went still as if for a moment he had forgotten about his new wife in the bed and just realized she was behind him. Facing the room, Bog turned bright red. His rear was to her and she was probably looking at his skinny backside, the horror. 

Marianne bit her bottom lip with a wicked grin. Yes indeed, the king was correct, his wife was staring at his rear, but with a glint in her eye that expressed that she was quite happy with the view. She moved to throw her legs over the edge on the other side of the bed, gathering up her nightdress and pulling it over her head to toss it past Bog, who stood ramrod still. He saw the white cloth fly past him to land on the floor. The nightdress puddled beside him and he knew that his wife was as naked as he. He heard the slight creak of Marianne crawling back into the bed behind him. His wife, Marianne, was naked in the bed. His brain for a moment felt that the image which was about to become reality, would cause his mind to overheat. 

He turned slowly his hands down over his erection as he faced her. When he saw her in the bed she had pulled the covers up to hide herself, her face, neck and shoulders bright red. But she was also smiling. 

She pressed her lips together staring at him as he stood there trying to hide, slumped over and feeling like he was ten years old again when he suddenly didn't want anyone but his dresser to see him naked. 

“Would closing my eyes help?” Marianne asked shyly. Bog felt foolish, but he nodded. So Marianne closed her eyes, waiting for him. He moved swiftly, tugging the covers back to slip in beside her, catching a glimpse of her bare leg and hip. 

As soon as he was in the bed, Marianne opened her eyes. They looked at each other and then burst out laughing. “We are rather silly, aren't we?” Marianne giggled at her husband. 

Bog nodded. “Aye, we are very silly.” 

Marianne turned to him, her hand gentle as she cupped his face moving to kiss him with the playful smile still on her lips. Bog reached for her, gently lowering her back against the pillows. She was the one to pull the sheets away so skin touched skin. Bog leaned in, brushing his nose against hers, smooth skin against smooth skin, silken caresses as their bodies touched. 

Bog's blue eyes burned into hers. Marianne caressed his cheek and moved her fingers down his neck. His warm lips glided along hers, his tongue reaching out to dampen her lips. The kiss quickly became more heated when Bog's tongue plunged into her mouth. Her hands reached into his hair pulling him down to her with their bodies rubbing against each other. Marianne ran her hands down the back of his neck, then over lean muscles, stopping just above his rear. She wanted him so much, to feel and to grab, uncertain if he would like it, but desperately wanting to find out. 

Bog wanted to move her hands lower, but he was not sure how to ask, while Marianne wanted him to touch her between her legs or turn his ministrations back to her breasts, though she didn't know how to ask either. She shuddered when he shifted position a little, feeling the heat of his erection, hot and hard against her leg. She traced his mouth with her tongue while her hands moved back into his hair; it felt to be the safest place for them. 

Letting instinct—and no small amount of daring experimentation—direct him, Bog nibbled down her slender neck, making his way back to her breasts. When he had managed to slide down between them, he rubbed his nose against her flesh. “You smell fantastically splendid, Marianne. Your skin is so soft.” He kissed her breastbone, his words a breathy sigh along her skin. 

“Oh, Bog...” She smiled and stroked his hair back from his face. He looked up, his pointed chin resting between her breasts with his large hands on her sides. 

He moved again taking one hand to gently ease her legs apart, careful to keep his hand on her thigh when he silently shifted her leg so that he could settle between them. The lust addled part of Marianne wanted to beg for him to touch her there, between her legs were she could feel the growing dampness. She wanted his touch right there! Right now! She felt hot and swollen and so, so needy, but she said nothing. Not sure how to say it exactly or how to ask. Little did she know Bog was hurting. His erection felt too tight and too hard. The notion of her touching him, of him sliding between those beautiful legs and burying himself within her nearly made him groan like a man in pain. But like his new wife, he didn't know how to ask or what to say to communicate his need. When he settled between her legs, leaning up on his arms to look down at her, his erection stroked against her wet entrance, causing them both to gasp. 

God, she looked so...Bog was at a loss for words. He was really looking at her, naked under him in his bed. Her hair had come loose from the ribbon with their constant shifting of position and taking off their night clothes. Her body looked flush, her nipples pink and hard. He swallowed as his eyes moved down the slope of her stomach, the flair of her hips until he saw the apex of her sex, dark curling hair, a slight glistening of dampness at the curls caught by the candlelight, the head of his erection slick with her fluids just from the slight touch. Bog trembled slightly. 

Marianne stared at Bog, his naked chest, sloping into a narrow waist, but then she saw him, his shaft hard, touching her where she so wanted him to touch her. He was magnificent, more than she had even imagined. Her eyes quickly shot back up to his face to see that he was blushing again! 

“I want you.” Her voice was husky with desire. Bog smiled at her, a little tightly because his control was crumbling. He took hold of himself and Marianne couldn't help but watch. Oh, goodness she thought. Oh, yes! On impulse, she lifted her knees up to allow her husband to move himself between her folds. “Ahh...” Bog's groan bubbled forth, for she was wet and slick. Marianne threw her head back in delight, biting her bottom lip. She had never felt anything so good in all her life. 

Bog started to push into his wife, careful not to hurt her, easing slowly so that she could stop him at any moment, but Marianne only encouraged him, her legs sliding along his hips, her hands digging into his elbows. Inch by inch he entered her. Marianne winced only slightly, just a narrowing of her brow, but it was swiftly gone until finally he was completely buried inside her. “Oh god, Marianne!” Bog shuddered, trying not to move, knowing that once he did, this would be over too swiftly and he wanted to make sure she experienced her climax at least once more on her wedding night. 

“Ooooh!! Bog!!” For a moment Marianne thought maybe she had died and this was heaven. Feeling him embedded so deeply within her, she never thought anything could feel so good, so right. Her muscles contracted once, twice. Oh goodness, she thought. He started to moved, slowly at first, pulling back. 

Grasping his face between her hands, Marianne stared up into his blue eyes. “I love you, Bog. I love you so much.” 

“Marianne...my love...” 

He continued to move slowly, tenderly trying to keep from rushing their love-making, but the little gasps and mews of pleasure she kept making were very distracting and oh how his body wanted him to simply thrust, hard and fast! 

He kept his movements slow and steady, his eyes fluttering as his shaft pulled out, not quite all the way, but enough that his new wife moaned with disappointment until he slowly pushed back in burying himself deep within her. But the slowness was starting to make Marianne ache. She wanted more, needed more from him. 

Bog buried his mouth against her neck, trying to control himself, sweating with the effort when Marianne whispered against his ear. “Harder, Bog, please! Faster!” 

Oh? Bog turned lifting up to look down at her. Marianne's eyes sparkled, her lips slightly swollen from their kissing and her skin was flush. “God, you are so beautiful.” Bog groaned. 

Marianne smiled leaning up to lick his mouth. “I love you, Bog.” 

He pushed up on his arms and Marianne's eyes wandered down seeing where his body was now connected with hers and she moaned. “Oh, Bog please! Harder!” 

Letting go of his restraint Bog started to move, thrusting harder, faster into the woman he loved until the two of them were a gasping, panting mess of tangled limbs. Marianne cried out, digging her fingers into Bog's shoulders trying to hold on as he made her orgasm again. Bog clinched his teeth feeling her muscles grasp his erection flooding over him with her fluids. When she arched her hips willing him to pound harder, he did until he thought he might pass out. 

Suddenly Marianne nearly screamed “YES!!!” She orgasm again, but this time Bog could not hold back even if he had wanted to. With a shout that turned into a roar of passion, Bog spilled into his wife, flooding her with his seed until he arms started to shake and he collapsed onto her. He wrapped his arms snugly around her, his face against her neck shuddering. 

They were both panting and sweaty when Marianne started to cry. 

“Marianne! Oh, god did I hurt you? I am so sorry—I didn't mean to...” He started to quickly back up, but she grabbed hold of him. 

“Don't you dare!” 

“What?” His blue eyes shone, but his expression was clearly confused. 

“That was wonderful! I'm crying because I love you so much.” Marianne's smile was almost as bright as her eyes. She gazed lovingly up at her new husband. Bog smiled, a sweet, almost embarrassed smile as he gazed back at her. That was when Marianne saw, in the corner of his summer sky eyes, the glimmer of unshed tears. “I love you too, Marianne. I love you now and always.” 

* 

The new couple talked, laughed and made love throughout the night. It was not until the first rays of the sun found their way through the cracks in the curtains did they finally fall asleep wrapped in each others arms. 

Griselda came up later that morning with a tray loaded with covered platters of hot food. She had the kitchen make an array of things from eggs benedict to simple porridge. Tea was included along with any number of pastries and sliced fruit. She had decided it would be best if she took breakfast up to the new couple, not wanting any of the servants to be embarrassed by hearing or accidentally seeing anything. 

When she arrived at the bedroom door, Griselda leaned her ear against the heavy wood. No, she didn't hear anything. She knocked lightly and waited. 

Still nothing. As quietly as she could, the king's mother opened the door stepping inside. She stopped in the doorway when she saw her son and her new daughter. They laid on their sides curled around each other. Marianne was nestled with her back against his chest, Griselda could barely see the young woman. Bog, his hair sticking up in all directions, had a arm wrapped snugly around Marianne, his head dipped down slightly like he was curling around her. They were both sound asleep. Griselda smiled, fighting back tears of joy. Her son was happy, with a wonderful woman as his wife. Carefully she brought the cart in containing the food and moved it to the side near the bed. Then Griselda swiftly, but quietly, moved around the large bed loosening the bed curtains so that they dropped close around the couple. 

She gave them one more smile before they were hidden from view. Then happily and quietly the queen mother exited wondering how long before the first grandchild would arrive.


End file.
